Another Name
by NetherVoidWanderer
Summary: Some would call it stalking. But stalking was just another name for love. Random thing... possibly more chapters possibly a one shot. Gaara and his obsession with a certain girl.


There was something about her that scared him.

It was a groundless fear, really.

He knew that.

He told himself that.

He'd _been_ telling himself that.

The fear really irked him. There was nothing about her that made her seem like someone who would kill a person for no reason at all. Unlike him. She was no threat to him. At least not like he was to her.

He could kill her easily. Very easily. Especially from the spot he currently occupied. So close and her window was open tonight.

He did this often… sat on a neighboring roof outside her window. Always watching from a distance. Wanting… always wanting…

Wanting to watch her all the time, particularly when she was asleep. Wanting to bury his nose in those fragrant strands of hair. Wanting to listen to her heartbeat. Wanting to taste her skin. Wanting to run his fingers over her cheek, her face… her throat.

Normally he'd just watch her from afar.

Watch her.

Want her.

_Fear _her.

Previously, before her, the only thing he feared was Shukaku. But this was a different type of fear… He wanted to see her and smell her and taste her and listen to her heart and touch her… but he was afraid.

Afraid that if he _did_ get close enough to smell her and taste her, listen to her heart and touch her that… that somehow… someway… he'd break her. That was what he didn't want… to break her.

But he did want to fill his senses with her presence

And her window was open tonight.

There was no noise as he leapt easily from the rooftop to her windowsill and paused in a half crouch as she stirred. He waited a few minutes on the sill; just watching, drinking in how very close… but still very far away she was.

Closer… just a little bit closer.

To see her face… to taste her skin and touch her.

Cautiously he stepped into her room... sand swirled loosely across the floor creeping excitedly towards the bed… towards her. He restrained the sand from touching her. He wouldn't let it touch her. He forced the sand back, away from the bed, away from her.

His heart was racing now… pulsating a mile a minute in his chest. He was scared now… as he loomed over her bed. Slowly... carefully… he leaned towards her. His nose grazed against a few sleep ruffled strands of hair tickling his nostrils lightly; he closed his eyes and inhaled her scent. She stirred again and he swiftly stood up straight, pausing to see if she would awake. But she only rolled over so that she was facing him. Rapidly his throat tightened and breathing became a rather difficult task. He'd never seen her this close before…

Slowly… very slowly… he leaned down. Her skin seemed to glow under the starlight and her hair was fanned out… it seemed very surreal. His lips parted slightly and he could feel her soft breath against his face. Delicately he ran the tip of his tongue across her cheek bone then down to her chin. She made a soft noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan.

He liked the way she tasted… he liked the noise she made even more. Warily he set one knee on the edge of her bed then leaned down; placing his hands on either side of her body for support he lowered his head against her chest and closed his eyes. Her heartbeat was so peaceful and calming…

Suddenly she giggled and shifted. Adrenaline and terror seized him and his eyes shot open. Every nerve in his body was screaming at him to move, to get out of there. But he couldn't… he just couldn't.

"…tickles." She muttered laughing very softly once before her body stilled. Cursing his brashness and praising his luck; he lifted himself away from her but remained seated on the edge of her bed. Something inside of him was telling him to go… get out of there before she woke up… go… leave… leave and don't come back. But something else inside of him spoke… do one more thing… just one… what they… what normal people did… he'd seen them…

The pit of his stomach seemed to fall out and an extreme sense of vertigo overtook him as he leaned towards her. His face hovered millimeters above hers; he licked his bottom lip, still able to taste her on as he closed the space between their faces. His lips bumped against hers and he fought down the urge to bite her neck… to leave a mark on her so that she would know of his visit. But no… just no… it wouldn't be wise…

He allowed his lips to linger against hers for a few moments before sitting up rigidly. She didn't stir. Slowly, but not as slow as the first time, he leaned down towards her and pushed his lips against hers again. There was more contact this time and he closed his eyes… savoring the warm feeling on his lips… the sound of her soft breathing… the faint taste of her saliva… the faint smell that was distinctly hers wafting towards his nostrils… He opened his eyes and was horrified to see her looking at him; her eyes were half lidded in a sleepy gaze, then they fell and he felt a tiny smile against his lips.

Moving faster then he'd ever previously moved he was out of her room with no more movement then a slight breeze. It was his foolishness that had almost gotten him caught… but it was mere luck that she didn't scream or try to attack him.

About twenty blocks away; having confirmed he wasn't being followed, he stopped, leaned forward, closed his eyes and pressed his hand over his raging heart. Luck had been on his side all night… maybe… maybe she'd think it had been a dream… just a strange dream…

As dawn came he found himself walking past her house and glancing at her window.

Still open.

An emotion… a very odd one rose up from his diaphragm as he passed by. He wanted to watch her in the few lingering hours of her sleep… but he couldn't… he wanted too… oh how he wanted too…

But he couldn't.

He could, however, watch her when she slept tomorrow night. He didn't have an addictive personality but he was addicted to watching her… and now… to touching her and tasting her and smelling her.

Yes… he would definitely watch her tomorrow night.

_Some would call it stalking. But stalking was just another name for love._


End file.
